


Gentlemen Start Your Engines

by NaughtyPastryChef



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Car Accident, Hand Jobs, M/M, bad cliches, let's go racin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyPastryChef/pseuds/NaughtyPastryChef
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Kirk, Golden boy of IndyCar racing, is threatened when a NASCAR racer, Leonard McCoy makes the jump to IndyCar just in time for the biggest race of the year, the Indianapolis 500.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentlemen Start Your Engines

**Author's Note:**

> While Memorial Day does mean to honor and remember our fallen heroes, to my inlaws, it also means the Indianapolis 500. (They're from there, what can I say?) Watching the race has become a lot of fun for me.  
> I took some liberties with some of the rules for racing, but stayed pretty close to the truth of it all.  
> NASCAR is stock car racing, they look like street-legal cars  
> Indy Car is called "open wheel" and they look like the F1, Grand Prix Ferarris... they're faster than NASCAR and more delicate.  
> The Indianapolis 500 is on Memorial Day weekend each year and it is the biggest race of the series, despite the fact that it happens early in the series. The trophy is coveted and quite possibly the most frightening thing I've ever seen.  
> A spotter is the person on your team who watches for other cars and lets you knew when you can pass...  
> If I've missed any definitions and someone is confused please contact me and let me know.  
> I hope you enjoy!!!

Jim scoffed as he went over his specs once again, certain he was missing something. His baby was feeling off and with time trials for Indy coming up he didn’t have the time for that.  He scoffed as he handed the info sheet off to Spock and headed out to sit on the track and think.

James Kirk, son of racing great George Kirk, had a lot of things handed to him in his life because of who he was.  No one, except for his team, had any idea how hard he really worked.  The racing media had no idea, nor did the general public.  He was constantly underestimated due to his face, family legacy and his sponsors. He didn’t care anymore. His rookie racing season had been a disastrous nightmare, beginning with a crash at Indy-one that hadn’t been his fault- and ending with him so far down in the points that he’d barely been able to keep his high dollar sponsors for this season.  He wasn’t going to let that happen to himself again.

He’d come in second at Barber, the Alabama race, but he wanted to win at Indy so badly that he could taste it.  George had never won at Indy, in fact Indy was the track that had claimed his life, and Jim would never forget it.  The 2 &1/2 mile oval track was going to be his.  He was going to kiss the brick finish line and drink milk in the winners’ circle at the Indianapolis 500; and he was going to do it this year.

The morning of May 10th dawned cold but clear and dry in Speedway, Indiana- perfect driving conditions.  Jim woke with the sun and did his normal exercises while mentally preparing for his da.  His fellow racers were not going to know what hit them.

Hours later, Jim was watching in shock and awe as some upstart, redneck hick from NASCAR blew his time trials out of the water and provisionally took pole position for the race. Spock and the rest of his pit crew had retreated in the face of Jim’s spectacular temper tantrum. Jim hadn’t even known there were any “NECKCAR” racers making the switch this season; he’d been so focused on his own situation. But this dumb Georigian hick in his “number seven car” thought he could come in here and take what rightfully belonged to Jim? Jim had a thing or two to say to this man- this Leonard McCoy.

Jim pasted his “cameras are watching” smile onto his face and left his garage to make his way through the swarms of reporters surrounding the redneck.  He sneered inwardly at them. Idiots, just jumping on the bandwagon of the newest upstart to think he could make the switch from stock car to open wheel racing.  They always thought they could do it and almost no one ever succeeded.

McCoy himself opened the door to his garage with a big smile on his face and Jim instantly hated the way his handsome face lit up with happiness when he saw Jim.  How dare this redneck from Georgia be so attractive and happy to see him?

“Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit, it’s Jimmy Kirk. Wow, I’m so happy to finally meet ya Jimmy! C’mon in an sit a spell!”

Jim bit his lip to keep the smile on his face – he could feel the cameras watching their interaction.  He shook the proffered hand, trying not to gasp at the spark he felt when his hand was encased in the other man’s large, warm hand.

“Leonard McCoy, right? I just watched your time trial, that was some impressive driving. Especially considering that you’re used to stock car racing. I’d love to come in and chat some, thanks.” Jim didn’t miss the way McCoy’s attractive green eyes narrowed as he spoke and was inwardly surprised that a stock car driver would hear and recognize the insult in his words.

“Why thank you so much Jimmy. Sure is a treat hearin such a compliment from you o’all people!”  The door shut behind Jim, closing them off from the reporters and both men dropped the smiles off their faces and regarded each other in silence.

“You need to know that I’ll be taking my rightful place on the pole back from you tomorrow on Bump day, redneck. This race is mine.”

 Leo laughed; a musical yet dangerous sound in Jim’s ears.

“Ohhhh, little golden boy is shakin in his fireproof racing suit huh? Well, little boy, I am not going to lie back and think of Georigia while you walk all over me and my team. So, I got your pole position right here.” McCoy reached down and cupped his cock through the dirty jeans he wore as they stared each other down.

Jim was the first to break, his face splitting into a huge, genuine smile even as his eyes went hot. He opened his arms wide and grabbed the other man in a gigantic hug, one that was returned instantly.

“Leo you absolute cocksucker! Why didn’t you tell me that you were gonna switch over and race Indy this year?” Jim yelled as he reluctantly let the other man go.

“You know me Jimmy, gotta make a big impression.” Leo smiled at the blonde as he reached out to twine their fingers together.

“Yeah, no kidding. I thought I was gonna lose it and piss my pants with that biscuit comment. Though…”Jim trailed off, licking his lips and craning his neck to ogle Leo’s ass.

“Have we ever tried butter as lube? Could be fun…” Jim teased as Leo flushed.  Leo pulled Jim flush against him and crashed their mouths together in the kiss he’d wanted to take since he opened the door and saw Jim standing there.  The kiss was almost violent as Leo nipped at Jim’s plush lower lip until Jim opened his mouth with a groan and twitch of his hips.

“Missed you.” Leo breathed into Jim’s open mouth and Jim pulled away just enough to see into Leo’s eyes, his chest heaving with breath and eyes already blown with lust.

“Missed you too.”  He whispered into the scant air between them. Leo’s smile went from shy to devious as he stepped forward, forcing Jim backwards until he was up against the wall.  He reached down and grabbed the smaller man’s hips in his hands, wordlessly urging him to jump up and wrap his skinny legs around Leo’s waist.

“C’mon darlin, I’ve been thinkin about this for a while now. I gotta have you soon before it’s all over.” His words were southern honey in Jim’s ear, who was already beyond speech.  He pressed himself closer, holding onto Leo tight so they could make the short trip from the wall to the work bench in the corner.

“Darlin, you see that car there? The car that beat your time and put me in pole position? I’m gonna fuck you on that car after I win the race in two weeks. I can see it, can you? Your golden, naked body spread out across the hood o’my car? I’m sure you can, but it’ll have to wait.” Leo drawled as he sucked kisses into Jim’s neck and collarbone.  He dropped the blonde onto the workbench, freeing his hands to rip his own jeans off and shove them down to the dirty floor.

Leo’s cock bobbed free, standing tall and hard as Jim’s mouth watered.  Jim would’ve hopped off the table and dropped to his knees but Leo refused to release his grip on Jim’s hips.

“Up darlin.” Leo drawled again as he peeled down the zipper to Jim’s jeans tooth-by-tooth.  Jim put the flat of his hands on the surface of the workbench and pushed himself up so Leo could pull his jeans down his legs and off. Jim hissed when the cool air of the room blew across his heated flesh but was yelling seconds later as Leo’s hot mouth engulfed him. He dropped himself back down onto the cold bench and sunk his fingers into the thick, dark hair while Leo bobbed up and down on his cock.

“Fuck Jimmy, you taste even better’n I remember.” Leo said as he pulled off one last time, strands of saliva stretching from his swollen lips to Jim’s cock.

“Scootch on up for me.” Leo urged while Jim moved to sit at the very edge of the bench, lining both their cocks up so that Leo could wrap one hand around them both and pump them hard and fast; just the way Jim liked it.

Jim slung his arm around Leo’s neck and pressed hot kisses into the side of his face as they watched their cocks slide in and out of Leo’s fist. It had been too long and the sight of it was all too much as Leo felt his orgasm slam into him.  He watched, along with Jim, as he came all over his hand and their pressed-together cocks.  Jim felt a twitch in his balls when the first spurt from Leo landed on the head of his cock and it set off his own orgasm. Leo shakily stroked them both through it.

“Next time, can we at least make it to the couch? I think there’s a wrench half-way up my ass.” Jim jokingly whined as they stood pressed together trying to regain their breath.  Leo huffed a laugh against his cheek before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips and straightening up with a small grimace on his face.

“I think I have to agree Jimmy darlin. I have to agree.”

The two weeks between “bump day” and race day, the local media had nothing to talk about but the seeming rivalry that sprang up overnight between the Indy Car Golden boy and the NASCAR convert. The fact that Jim was unable to regain pole position was fodder enough, but the interactions made it media gold.  In public, the two were rarely seen doing anything but exchanging tight, false smiles and pointed, threatening words. The media was having a field day writing about the drivers in the top two staring positions.

Behind closed doors, however, it could not have been more different.  Kirk and McCoy had known each other since they were kids in their go-kart days racing as “Jimmy Tiber” and “Horatio Lion” respectively. No one, not even their crews, knew just how well the two men knew each other or just how much they meant to each other.

The night before the race Jim snuck into Leo’s hotel room to spend the night twined around each other. They were still unsure of how they were ever going to make their relationship public, since so many of the “good old boys” in the racing clubs still didn’t even like women racing with them, let alone two gay men in a relationship.

Jim rested with his head on Leo’s sweaty chest as he drew patterns between the myriad of freckles on Leo’s stomach and thighs. Leo was running his fingers through Jim’s hair and thinking, loudly.

“C’mon Leo, stop that. You can think some other time. We only have a few hours left before I have to sneak away for tomorrow.”  Leo mumbled nonsense and Jim lifted his head to look up at him.  Leo was asleep, lulled by the release of stress they’d shared and the high tension he was experiencing for the next day. Jim rolled gently to reach his phone and snap a pic of Leo’s sweet face in repose before he set an alarm and drifted off to sleep himself.

Race day dawned hot but clear. Not ideal for racing but, there was no help for it.  Jim went for his run before eating breakfast and joining his crew in their garage for a pep talk led by his spotter, Spock. Jim nearly yawned his way through it, only managing to stay awake by thinking about the night before with Leo.

As the drivers lined up to be introduced to the crowd, Jim and Leo made sure to put on a good show of sneering at each other as they jostled elbows and spat subtle, unmeant threats at each other interspersed with whispered declarations of love and luck.  Jim had to clench his hand into a fist to keep himself from reaching out and pulling Leo close to kiss him many times.

Declarations of love in a sweet, southern accent should be illegal, he thought.

Jim and Leo took off once the flag was lowered and no one else ever even stood a chance. They changed leads more than 20 times in the first 190 laps, even going so far as to pit at the same times. It wasn’t a planned out system, but it worked for the two of them. Though the two loved each other, they both wanted to win. No one was going to throw the race.

At lap 198, just after Leo passed Jim with a risky maneuver in turn four that had even Spock swearing into Jim’s headset at the man, disaster struck. An older, veteran racer named Nero who was a few laps down from lead lap, refused to get out of the way of Leo’s car despite the rules about it. He even went so far as to block Leo from passing him, which was flat out illegal; and they both paid for it.

Jim’s heart was in his throat as he saw Leo’s car slam into the side wall and flip upside down, skidding for 500 feet before coming to a stop.  Jim narrowly avoided all of the debris on the field, and immediately let up on the throttle to slow down, wishing in vain for a rearview mirror or something to see what was going on. He screamed into his headset at Spock to tell him what was going on.

“I do not know Jim. That was a mess. Come into the pit, they’re gonna call it with you as the winner.” Jim, for the first time since he’d sat behind the wheel of any kind of motorized vehicle, didn’t give two shits about that. All he could think of was Leo.  He pulled into the pit and began tugging at his harness and helmet, yelling for someone to help him get the fucking things off him. Scotty did and, fearful of Jim’s wrath, stood back when Jim finally was free of the car and watched him sprint back through the line of cars to get closer to the accident.  Jim didn’t care if he disqualified himself, he had to know that Leo was okay.

Leo’s car was smoking, but not on fire when Jim was finally close enough to see it. He sprinted faster, heedless of the shouted warnings for him to stay away. He began to yell for Leo, his heart beating so fast he was afraid it might burst. He had to get to that car.

The EMT’s had finally managed to get Leo’s unconscious body unbuckled and out of the flipped car when Jim skidded to a stop next to them. They were gently strapping Leo to the back board when Jim reached into the fray and lifted up the visor of Leo’s helmet.  His face was soft and it looked so much like he had the previous night when Jim had taken that picture that he let out an explosive breath.

“Mister Kirk, you have to get away. You have to let us do our jobs!” One of the techs shouted, but Jim barely heard her.  He pressed closer and closer until he could actually feel the little puffs of breath coming from Leo’s slackened lips.

“You listen to me Leonard Horatio McCoy; you better be okay. You hear me? We have a lot of things left to do in this life and I can’t and don’t want to do them without you. Wake up, dammit, and tell me that you’re okay.” Jim had tears in his eyes as he waited for some kind of response.  Finally, Leo’s eyelids twitched and he grimaced.

“James Tiberius Kirk, if you just disqualified yourself from winnin this race for me, I’ll kill you m’self.”  Jim barked out a laugh and allowed the tears to stream down his face as he pressed kisses onto the helmet, getting as close to Leo’s lips as he could.

“There’s always next year Leo. You’re more important.”  Jim laughed and finally squeezed his face into the visor of the helmet so that he could brush his lips against Leo’s.

 


End file.
